life, undermined
by sweetsouthernbell
Summary: Sydney and Vaughn have to pretend to be a newlywed couple. Only one problem they've just met. And they hate each other.
1. Of spouses and missions

**Title**: Life, undermined  
**Author**: sweetsouthernbell. You know, the nutcase. :P  
**Rating**: PG... for now. Most likely going to upped later.  
**Summary**: Sydney Bristow is depressed. And with good reason. Her boyfriend left her because of her job, that same job is slowly killing her, her friends are practically ignoring her, and to top it all off, she and dad aren't speaking with each other anymore. Enter: Vaughn and a fake marriage.  
**A/N**: Alright, so this is a Pre-season one fic. With a few exceptions. Syd never worked for the Alliance, she works for the real CIA. She knows her dad is a spy as well. Marshall and Carrie already have Mitch. Um... Syd is around 23 or 24. Vaughn's six years older, like in the show. Anything else should be cleared up by the chapter or if you ask me, I'll explain.  
**Warning**: Shameless fluff alert. A girl's allowed to have one fic with shameless fluff. Okay, this girl already has like ten of those. This one, truly shameless. Truly fluffy.

Happy reading and don't forget to review!

* * *

The sun was shining. Birds were chirping from their nests full of ready to hatch eggs. The wind had taken a break for once. The temperature was just right. No jacket was necessary on this particular day. Neither were shorts for that matter. In essence, no one possibly could have been depressed on this lovely April afternoon.

But Sydney Bristow never could have been construed as no one.

Or normal.

Standing at a few inches below six feet, Sydney was a pretty girl. Not quite to the standards of beautiful but eye catching nonetheless. Her sun streaked chestnut hair lay about her shoulders in soft curls as she sat on a bench in the park near her college watching the other people with chocolate eyes.

One thing that Sydney had mastered was hiding her emotions. To any passing person, she seemed to be a student taking a well deserved study break in the park before hitting the books again. Even her friends (if she could call them friends any longer) had a hard time with seeing through the mask she maintained at all times. She'd picked up the habit soon after her mother had died and it proved to be useful for her than any textbook ever had.

Contrary to appearances, Sydney wasn't on that park bench because she wanted a break from studying. Actually, she couldn't remember the last time she had studied like she should have. Studying just seemed trivial in comparison to some things. Like the currant drama going on at her apartment.

Her best friend, Francie was getting married. Truthfully, Sydney didn't particularly like her friend's fiancé. Something just wasn't right there. While she could usually pinpoint what made a person so untrustworthy like they fiddled with a pen while talking or they just had that look in their eyes that made them untrustworthy but with Charlie, she was stumped. If it weren't for the chills and sinking feeling in her gut that she got around him, she would actually like the guy.

Her other roommate, Will was another story in itself. She knew without anyone ever having to tell her that Will had a crush on her and that little fact could have been ignored if it weren't for the looks her gave her. Stolen looks, at such things as dinners or parties, that he thought no one including her saw. She'd glance around and there he'd be looking at her. While he never gave her the chills like Charlie had, Sydney had never been able to be completely comfortable around him.

Not that many people in her life had ever held that honor as it was. Ever since becoming engaged, Francie and Charlie were attached at the hip, so that ruled her out. Will was a given. Dixon, her partner, nice as he was always seemed to have this pitying look in his eyes and Sydney hated pity more than anything. Eric Weiss, a friend at work, was always making an inappropriate joke or giving her the once over that made her turn the other way. Her father and she hadn't had an actual conversation since she was nine despite them working together.

That left the only two people in her life that she trusted and treasured above all others; Yelena and Katya. Her mother's sisters.

Sydney had just been accepted into the CIA training program when Katya first contacted her. She had been apprehensive but when Yelena contacted her as well, she felt like she had to meet them. The three women had hit it off immediately. She found an expected joy in her mother's sisters but their lunch was abruptly cut short by Yelena receiving a call from someone. She never said who and her niece never bothered to ask. All that had mattered to her was that she had finally found two people that she could trust.

For six months, Sydney met with her two aunts on a regular basis. At lunch or for dinners, anything. She'd often skip a class to be able to meet with her aunts. She became known for ignoring the CIA when they called her that she was about to be fired when the contact just ceased.

Suddenly and with no warning.

Her aunts had always contacted her to meet, never revealing any information on how to reach them. Sydney hadn't minded. Until they stopped contacting her that is. The blow had been just as, if not more, devastating than her mother's death.

Sydney had yet to recover from it, three years later.

But that wasn't why she was in the park today. She was there because her boyfriend of a year and a half (Danny was his name) had met her after her English Lit class to tell her in a polite yet blunt way that he had had enough of her and her obsession with her job (ever since she lost the contact with her aunts, she devoted herself to her work). In simple terms, he left her.

_Bastard_, she cursed mentally. Just as she was starting to trust him and let him into her life, he goes and does this. She should have known that this would happen. No one ever stuck around long enough for her to trust them. Maybe that was why she was so bitter.

The sound of her CIA phone going off broke her out of her bitter thoughts. With a sigh to herself, she pulled the phone out of her pocket. "Bristow."

"Syd, you have to come in today," Dixon told her immediately. Well, the pair never had exchanged pleasantries when it came to work related calls. Had he been calling to ask her to dinner with Diane and the kids, then they would have been friendlier.

Sydney frowned. "It's my day off," She replied.

"Try telling Kendall that," Her partner answered.

Her eyes fell closed as she cursed her boss silently in several languages. "I'll be right in," She answered hanging up the phone immediately after. She doubted he had anything else to tell her and if he did, then it could wait until she got to headquarters.

Twenty minutes and thirteen seconds later, she parked her car in the underground parking lot at headquarters. It took her another five minutes to make her way up to the briefing room. The entire way there, she was dwelling on what her boyfriend told her.

She was _not_ obsessed with her job, she decided. But as she looked around, she came to the sickening conclusion that was, in fact, fixated with her job. All she did anymore was work. Groaning to herself as the realization hit home hard, she pressed her hand to her forehead and leaned against the nearest wall. God, no wonder he had left her.

"Sydney, there you are," Dixon said suddenly from somewhere to the right of her. "We were about to send someone to go get you." His face was serious enough but his tone told her that he was teasing.

Sydney's eyes shot open as she lowered her hand from her forehead. Forcing a smile, she answered, "Traffic was heavier than normal."

"I'm sure Kendall will be so pleased to hear that," Her partner joked.

Her smile slowly became a little more real. Even if he did pity her most of the time, she found that he was good for a laugh and a talk once in a while. "I don't care if he likes it or not. That's the truth." Lying to people's faces was one of her specialties.

Dixon laughed lightly and gestured towards the briefing room. "We're about to start," He informed her. For a split second, she saw a different emotion –hesitation maybe- flicker through his eyes. She blinked and it was gone.

With an understanding nod, she followed him down the hall, her slight frown reappearing the moment Dixon turned his back on her. Maybe she was just paranoid –something she couldn't put past herself any longer- but something didn't seen right here. It was that look in her partner's eyes that told her that this was not going to be a normal smash and grab mission.

"He wants to see you alone," Dixon told her as he dropped her off at the door.

Sydney forced another smile and nodded. "I'll see you later," She told him, opening the door and slipping inside. Instantly she spotted Marshall the tech guy at the CIA and…

"Good, Sydney you're here," came the impatient sounding voice of her boss. Kendall. God did she hate him at times. Now being one of them. "Sit." He said, gesturing towards one of the empty chairs around the round table.

"Before I lay out your mission, I'd like to introduce you to Michael Vaughn." Kendall continued after she had taken her seat.

Sydney raised her eyes from the table to see a handsome dirty blonde green eyed man sitting across from her. God, she hadn't even noticed him before now. So much for being good at observing everything in a room. The man –Michael Vaughn, Kendall called him- smiled at her and inclined his head in greeting. She found herself smiling and nodding in return.

But Kendall's next statement slammed her back to reality with painful force. "He'll be your husband for the next two weeks."

Sydney felt her mouth fall open a little as she tore her gaze away from Michael Vaughn to Kendall, her eyes flashing with unasked questions.

Kendall ignored her and turned to the man. "Vaughn, this is Sydney Bristow, she'll be your wife."

When Sydney glanced over at Vaughn as he was now called, his mouth had fallen open as well and he was staring at Kendall. So she wasn't the only one blindsided by this sudden revelation. For some reason, that gave her a sort of a satisfaction.

"You both are aware of who Julian Sark is, correct?" Kendall questioned, apparently still unaware of the confused looks crossing his agents' faces. Marshall however noticed them and shifted in his chair uncomfortably.

Sydney nodded. "He's one of our most valuable contacts," She answered.

"And very private," Vaughn added.

No one knew much about Julian Sark. You went on a mission and worked off gear that he provided or you knew how to blackmail someone because of something he told the CIA, but other than that, you didn't know he even existed. Sydney wasn't sure if anyone had actually ever met the guy.

"Maybe a little too private," Kendall told them. "Langley believes that he's double crossing us."

A frown crossed both of his agents' faces at this new information. Sark had always provided correct intel. To say that he might be double crossing the CIA made them wonder what sort of effect that had on the organization.

"Why do they think that?" Sydney asked.

"Recently, he provided the intel and weaponry for two recon missions. One in Russia. The other in the Middle East." Kendall told them.

"What happened?" Vaughn questioned.

"Both missions were a complete failure. Our agents were ambushed and slaughtered." Kendall answered, his expression grave. Sydney swallowed hard and out of the corner of her eye, she could see that Vaughn was having the same difficulty accepting the news of fellow agents' deaths. "Sark was the only one that knew where our agents would be."

"You think he's selling us out?" Vaughn asked.

Kendall nodded. "We do. He hasn't been known for his ability to stay loyal to one organization for too long but if he is double crossing us, then that is breaking his pardon agreement and then we have a new enemy of the state."

Both agents frowned once more. Sark was working for the CIA on a pardon agreement? Not many agents knew this information apparently. This had to be highly classified information, so why tell them about this now?

"It wasn't helping his case any when he married Lauren Reed two weeks ago," Kendall continued.

Lauren Reed was a name the pair knew about all too well. She hadn't ever worked at the L.A. department (rather in Boston) but her betrayal of her husband and her country to the Alliance had spread all over the CIA network. The last anyone heard was that she had fled to Switzerland. Until now.

"So the marriage blindsided us?" Sydney asked.

Kendall nodded. "Definitely. They're alarmed over at Langley."

"Because you think he's working through Reed to the Alliance," Vaughn deduced.

"Or it could be a partnership between them," Sydney put in.

Kendall nodded again. "That's where you too come in." He told them, grabbing two manila folders and handing them to the two agents. "Thanks to the tracking device planted in Sark made by our own Marshall Flinkman" –Marshall beamed at his work being praised- "we know that the couple is currently at St. Regis hotel in Aspen, Colorado."

Sydney skimmed the paper in front of her. It described an audacious ski resort in the mountains of Colorado, very expensive, very posh. In the notes at the bottom, it was described as the best place for newlyweds in the States.

"Langley asked me to send my best two agents for the mission, and that would be the two of you." Kendall explained. "You'll be going under cover as Mr. and Mrs. James and Melissa Adams. You'll be on your honeymoon."

"Why married?" Sydney asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

"Dating's too shaky and engaged attracts too much attention," Kendall detailed. "Newlyweds is the best option."

Sydney mulled that over. Unfortunately, he had a point. If they pretended to be dating, no normal couple would go to a resort like that one if they were just dating. Engaged would attract questions like "When's the wedding?" or "Where are you registered?" No, married was the best option. People would respect the privacy of a newly married couple and that would make the whole mission that much easier.

But she had just met the man!

How was she supposed to pretend to be married to a man that she had just met? She was good but not that good.

After swallowing hard and licking her lips, Sydney asked, "What exactly do you want us to do?"

"Learn Sark's and if you can, Reed's agenda." Kendall answered. "Do me a favor though, and don't try to be the hero."

Sydney lowered her eyes at that. What she didn't know was that Vaughn had done the same thing. Both agents were notoriously known for letting their pride get in the way at times. In simple terms, they tried to catch the bad guy when it was a danger to themselves and the CIA and most often then not, completely unnecessary.

"Your plane leaves in two hours," Kendall continued. "In your folders, you'll find the information you'll need."

Sure enough when Sydney turned to the next page in the folder, there was a detailed description of her alias: Melissa Adams. Rich, spoiled, not the brightest crayon in the box, whimsical, what else was new? What surprised her was when she turned the page again and found the entire history of the man that she was going to pretend to be married to.

If she didn't know any better, he sounded a lot like her. One parent dead, few friends, obsessed with work, lonely.

She supposed he had the same background on her in his own folder. For a fleeting moment, she wondered if he was thinking that they had more in common than met the eye too.

"Marshall will outline the equipment you'll use," Kendall said. "And I'll see you two in two weeks when you return."

Sydney gave him a half smile as Vaughn nodded. Kendall nodded at them both before getting up from his chair and leaving the room. However, when he reached the door, he turned around and added, "Good luck with being married."

Sydney had to fight the urge to roll her eyes. This was happening all too fast. First her boyfriend leaves her in the morning and then in the afternoon she had to pretend to be married to a complete stranger.

"Right… so, nothing too complicated this time." Marshall said, turning her wayward thoughts back to the present. "Not that I'm saying that you two can't handle anything complicated. Cause you can. I'm just saying that a child could do it. Have you seen my pictures of Mitch by the way? He's definitely a Flinkman, I'll tell you that. Can't keep his hands out of anything anymore…"

As much as Sydney loved to hear Marshall babble about Mitch, his son, today was not her day. "Marshall...?" She interrupted.

"Yeah?" Marshall asked, stopping mid sentence.

"Our equipment," She prompted gently.

"Right!" He nodded and dove straight into explaining the equipment. He had been right though, she decided, a child could have worked this stuff. Listening devices, code scramblers, lock pickers, video surveillance. Stuff that she had been using ever since she started working for the CIA.

When he'd finished, both Sydney and Vaughn thanked him and collected their things. "So…you two are going to be married," He mused.

"It looks that way," Sydney answered.

"Knowing you two, you're going to need all the luck you can get with that," Marshall commented, completely uncharacteristically. Before they could ask him what he meant by that, he was gone.

Slowly, Sydney turned her eyes to Vaughn and saw that his face mirrored the same confused expression that hers wore. "So you're my husband."

"So you're my wife," Vaughn replied. He didn't seem to be taking this any more calmly than she was.

Oh this was going to be the longest two weeks ever.

* * *

_Yay? Nay? No more? More?_


	2. Of rings and run ins

Not even ten minutes into the flight to Colorado and Sydney decided that she did _not_ like this guy. This Michael Vaughn. However nice he seemed when she first met him flew out the window the second she tried to have a conversation with him. He was arrogant, self absorbed; he didn't listen to anything she had to say; he argued with her constantly on how they were going to pull off this mission; he didn't believe that he could ever be wrong; and probably the worst of it all, he tried to make her his assistant, not his partner.

Little did she know that Vaughn's thoughts about her were exactly the same. How the woman ever managed to keep her job as a spy was beyond him. She had no people skills what-so-ever! Or at least none as far as he could tell.

"We can't just waltz into his hotel room," Sydney snapped.

Vaughn rolled his eyes. "I wasn't saying that." He refrained from calling her a nasty name but only just barely. "We have to be invited first."

It was simple. They "run into" Sark and Reed and get to talking to them and then coerce them to invite the agents up to their room for drinks. The pair could knock out Sark and Reed by a simple drug slipped into their drinks and while they were out cold, plant the necessary listening device. But_ she_ had to find any and every flaw she possibly could. Insufferable wench.

"It's too risky," She argued. It would be risky enough to even approach Sark and Reed much less go up to their hotel room. God, how stupid could this guy get? With their luck, Sark and Reed would probably recognize them as CIA agents. It would be much better to lay low and observe them secretly.

"Then how to you propose we plant the listening device in their room?" He asked.

"I impersonate one of the maids," She answered. "And plant it while they're not there."

"Yeah, that's not risky," He muttered more to himself than her. Not that he cared if she heard him anyway. "Why do you have to be the one to plant it?"

She snorted. "I don't think you'd be up to the challenge." How they were ever going to pretend to be newlyweds was beyond her.

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you calling me under qualified?"

"Your words, not mine." She answered with a dismissive wave of her hand.

If she didn't shut up, then he was going to be bringing a dead body back to L.A. with him. "We're supposed to be married." He reminded her.

"Why anyone would want to marry you is beyond me." She retorted.

Having to clench his fist to keep from hitting her, he glared at her venomously. "I was going to say the same thing about you but _that_ would have made me immature."

Her jaw dropped as she stared at him. First he called her unmarriageable and _then_ he had the audacity to call her immature. That _bastard_! And she didn't know how to respond to that except for ignoring him which she proceeded to do. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out her portable radio she'd packed for when she went on her daily jog and a book.

"What are you doing?" He asked, his voice full of disgust.

"You'd think you'd recognize when a girl was ignoring you," She told him a definite hint of sing-song in her voice as she put her headphones on. "It has to happen to you all the time."

Somehow he managed to keep his retort to himself. "We have to sort out what we're going to do."

"We can do it later," She shrugged.

"No," He countered, through clenched teeth. "We have to do it now."

"Why?" She asked innocently.

"You know why," He threw at her.

"Actually, I want to hear you say it," She replied, her eyes flashing coldly.

"This is ridiculous," He hissed at her. "We are two adults here and we're fighting like children."

Sadly, he had a point. She couldn't remember the last time she'd fought with anyone this immaturely. Well no, that was a lie. She remembered but she had been around five at the time.

Swallowing her pride –no minor feat- she nodded. "Alright, what if we watch Sark and Reed for the first couple of days, learn their habits and then approach them?"

What she'd never know was that he was thinking the exact same thing. Nodding to show he understood the plan, he answered, "Sounds good."

Sydney gaped at him for a moment. He agreed; he actually _agreed_ to something she proposed. "When are we scheduled to land?" Good, change of subject.

Vaughn checked his watch. "About a half hour."

She nodded. "We should go over our story. How we met, how long we were dating, the works."

"We met at a friend's party." There, that was simple. Of course she had to argue with it.

"My friend or yours?"

"Does it matter?" He asked, near a growl. She really knew how to get on his nerves didn't she?

"It will when our stories contradict," She answered haughtily. If they were caught with their stories contradicting by Sark and Reed, then they were busted. And that was not in her plans for this mission.

"Mine then," He answered with a dismissive wave.

"Why yours?" She challenged.

"Mutual?" He offered. This girl had to have every little thing go her way and it was driving him fricking insane.

She considered it for a moment before shrugging. "Sure. Name for mutual friend?"

"I don't know… Marie." There that should make her happy. Knowing her, if he'd proposed a guy's name, she would have gone off on some masculine superiority thing.

Unfortunately for him, he was dead wrong. To her, if they met through a mutual girl friend, then it would be too complicated. He'd have to have a story about how he met this girl friend and why they weren't dating and it would be too complicated.

"How about a couple?" She proposed. "I'm friends with the girl and you're friends with the guy and everybody's happy."

"You mean you're happy," He muttered under his breath. "Sounds good. What next?"

"How long were we dating?" She asked.

"I'm going to let you pick that one." He answered.

After giving him a glare, she said, "Eighteen months."

"Engaged for six months," He added.

This brought a smile, though smug, to her face. "Now you're getting it."

If she means getting how to keep her happy, then she was dead on. "How would you like for me to have proposed to you?"

This question was a little harder. She had how she wanted to be proposed to all planned out in her head but it was the sharing it with this pompous jerk that irked her. Well, she might as well tell him.

"We both love the ocean," She started, "and… we usually take walks along the beach in the moonlight. Just because. Then on one of those walks, under the full moon, you suggest that we have dinner on the beach. So I agree and we spend the next hour or so feeding each other fruit and finger food and then you feed me a strawberry and inside's a ring. That's when you tell me how much you love me and you ask me to marry you."

He was dumbfounded at the lengthiness of her story. He'd expected something like over dinner at Christmas, but not that whole long story. Well, if that's the way she wanted it. "Okay."

While her face didn't smile, her eyes did and he couldn't help the silent wish that she keep that smile in her eyes all the time. "Simple wedding?" She asked.

He nodded. "Definitely."

After a couple moments of silence, he leaned over and rifled around in his suitcase for a couple moments before pulling out an eight by ten velvet box. "Choose your ring." He said, opening the box to reveal a vast array of rings. "They all have a built in cameras, thanks to Marshall."

So he had gotten them from Marshall. It would have been a little odd for a man –spy or no- to carry around a box of rings. "He needs to get out of the office more," She commented taking the box and looking the rings over.

"Especially considering he has a son now," He added.

She nodded her agreement. More than once she wondered how Carrie, Marshall's wife, was handling her husband being at the office almost twenty four seven. It almost made her glad that she wasn't married and now that Danny was gone, there were no prospects. She could come and go as she pleased and no one would care. At least no one that she cared about.

"I like these," She said finally, pulling one of the diamond engagement rings and a simple wedding ring out of the box. After holding them up for him to see, she slipped the rings on. Of course they fit perfectly.

Glad that she chose the simple wedding ring, he took the box back, taking out the matching wedding ring and then putting the box back in his suitcase. Once he put his ring on as well, he looked at her and said, "And we just got married."

_Marshall had a point_, they both thought, they were going to need all the help they could get.

**-break-**

"Ah, Mr. and Mrs. Adams," said the hotel manager, the suck up, when they entered the hotel. After another fight in the car that brought them from the airport, Sydney reluctantly agreed to hold onto his arm and fawn over him like she really was married to him. They might have had a non fighting moment on the plane but that didn't mean she could stand the guy any more than before. "We've been waiting for you."

"I highly doubt that," Vaughn answered, sounding haughty and doing a good job of it.

_Couldn't be that much of a stretch_, she thought.

"We're not that important," He continued, seeing the manager's face harden.

At this, the manager laughed. "Nonsense," He insisted. "Everyone who stays at this hotel is important."

"You seek to flatter us," Sydney answered twirling a piece of her hair around her forefinger.

"Not at all, Mrs. Adams," The manager countered.

Hiding the inward cringe she felt coming on, she smiled at the man. "Call me Melissa please." Both the manager and the man whose arm she was clutching raised an eyebrow at her. "I guess I'm just not used to be calling Mrs. yet." She added.

The manager laughed again and the sound was starting to get on both hers and Vaughn's nerves. "If that's what the lady wants, then that's what the lady gets."

She gave the man a smile before turning to her "husband". "James, I'm going to go use the little girl's room, okay?"

"Okay, Mel," Vaughn answered having to force himself not to retort something smart at her. "I'll check in for us."

She gave him a forced smile and kissed him on the cheek before disengaging herself from him –almost roughly- and walking away. Yeah, she needed to go to the bathroom because she was going to throw up after kissing that man's cheek.

"She seems a little…" The manager trailed off, not wanting to insult Vaughn about his wife but in his opinion, they seemed a little cold towards each other. Newlyweds weren't cold, that was for sure.

"It's the flying," Vaughn answered quickly. "It's never agreed with her and it always makes her a little cranky."

"Ah," The manager said. That explained a lot. "Come, we'll get you checked in." He told Vaughn, leading him over to the reception desk.

"The sooner, the better," Vaughn replied. He meant it as, the sooner they got checked in, the sooner he could get some sleep and get away from _her_.

The manager gave him a knowing smile and he had to keep from rolling his eyes and correcting the man. If he wanted to think something newlywed related, let him.

"Can we get a king size bed," Vaughn requested. Oh, that really sounded like the opposite than what he wanted. He figured that the bigger the bed, the less likely he was to run into her in the middle of the night.

"Certainly," The manager added, again with the knowing smile.

_Sick old bastard_, Vaughn cursed mentally as he let his gaze wander around the lobby.

Sydney sighed and stared into the mirror in the women's room, trying to calm her nerves. She wasn't sure how much longer she could pretend to be in love with that jerk. Only by reminding herself that it was for the good of the country was she able to put that fake smile back on her lips.

Feminine giggling from right outside the door made her freeze. After a couple moments of acting like a deer caught in the highlights, she grabbed her purse and headed for one of the stalls. She wasn't quite ready to face anybody.

"Julian…" The woman giggled, opening the door. "You can't come into the women's room with me."

Sydney's mouth fell open. Julian, that could mean…

"Why not?" Julian answered making the woman giggle again. "You can't leave my side ever, Lauren. We're married now."

That confirmed it. The two people she had been sent to spy on were in the fricking women's bathroom with her. Oh shit. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she noted that he sounded rather chauvinistic. Kind of like the jerk she was supposed to be married to.

"Because," Lauren sighed clearly over exaggerated. "You just can't."

"That's not very convincing," Sark countered eliciting another giggle from Lauren.

Oh, Sydney was definitely going to puke now. And she was stuck in a stall in the same bathroom as them. Oh, if she had to listen to them… ew.

Vaughn stopped his wandering eyes, seeing what Sydney was hearing. Sark and Lauren, standing in the doorway to the women's room. It didn't look like Sark was going to let his new wife go in there alone either.

For reasons unknown to him, considering he hated the woman, he turned to the manager and said, "I don't think they're allowed to do that." He nodded towards the couple who were up to groping each other now.

"I'll be right back," The manager replied, leaving the desk to go break up the couple.

Vaughn nodded and watched leaning against the desk, looking bored. Why did he do that? Of course he knew Sydney was in that bathroom and knowing her, she could hide herself, but it might have been interesting to force her to listen to the couple go at it.

"Excuse me," The manager interrupted the couple. Sydney almost cried with relief. She wouldn't have to listen to that. "Either in or out."

"He'll be waiting outside," Lauren answered before Sark could open his mouth. She gave her husband a look before slipping inside.

Sydney waited until the other woman was in the one of the stalls before grabbing her purse and making a break for the door. "Oh, excuse me," She said, purposely running into the manager who was still standing outside the door with Sark.

"M-mrs. Adams, I mean… Melissa," The manager stammered seeing who had crashed into him. "I didn't see you there." He definitely looked embarrassed seeing her come out of the same bathroom where another couple was about to…

Sydney gave him an abashed smile. "No, it's my fault." She countered. "I was just so anxious to get back to my James that I wasn't watching where I was going." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sark watching her. Great. "Please forgive me."

"There's nothing to forgive," The manager insisted. "Come, we've almost got you checked in."

"The sooner, the better," She answered, following the manager.

"Your husband said the same thing," He commented.

"Did he?" She asked, trying not to sound too shocked.

"Mmhmm," He answered. Well, that just meant they thought alike sometimes. Nothing earth shattering.

She hoped.

Ten minutes later, ten minutes full of apologies from the hotel manager, Sydney and Vaughn were finally able to grab their keys and make a break for the room. According to the manager, their luggage had already been brought up.

"You owe me one," Vaughn told her when they entered the elevator.

Sydney jerked away from him, seeing as they were alone. "Oh yeah?" She challenged. "For what?"

"Sending the manager after Sark and Reed," He answered simply.

She stared at him. "You did that?" She stammered.

"You're welcome, dear," He replied sarcastically.

"Bite me," She shot at him.

"I'd rather not, thanks." He countered.

Throwing him a glare she crossed her arms over her chest. "Any girl who does marry you is seriously disturbed."

"I'd say the same about you and any man who marries you," He answered chuckling.

"So we're in agreement."

"Looks that way," He nodded. "Oh, we need to act more in love."

"Excuse me?"

"The manager," He explained. "He sense that something was off. I blamed it on the plane but we can't do that for two weeks."

A sigh escaped her lips. "It's kind of hard to act in love with someone like you."

"Right back you," He murmured.

Thankfully for both of them, the elevator reached their floor seconds later. He reached for her hand, which she gave to him reluctantly, and with their best fake smiles, the couple emerged from the elevator. Sydney winked at one of the middle aged ladies waiting for the elevator and held her up her free left hand for show.

"Newlyweds," One of the ladies whispered to the other as the couple headed down the hall.

"Cute couple," The other replied before their voices faded.

"Nice touch," Vaughn commented. "With the wink."

Sydney shrugged, "Kept the old birds happy didn't it?"

He kept his laughter soundless as he pulled her to a stop outside one of the doors. "After you," He said, unlocking it. "Unless you want me to carry you."

She threw him a nasty look. "I think I can walk," She replied, striding inside before he could retort anything. After a quick glance around at the room, she dumped her purse on a chair and collapsed on the bed.

"What are you doing?" He asked, heading for his suitcase.

"Sleeping," She mumbled back.

Rolling his eyes, he opened his suitcase and pulled out two bug detectors. "We have to sweep for bugs," He reminded her.

Groaning, she sat up and took the detector he handed her. "Fine. I'll take the bathroom."

"Don't take too long," He told her. "I'd like to brush my teeth sometime tonight."

As it turned out, the room wasn't bugged and she only took ten minutes in the bathroom. Tossing the detector back in his open suitcase, she gestured towards the bathroom. "All yours, master."

He rolled his eyes at her. "Thanks." There was no gratitude in his voice.

After he closed the bathroom door behind him, she crossed to her own suitcase and pulled out some clothes to sleep in. Seeing as she was alone and the room was unbugged, she changed right on the spot. He came back out of the bathroom –changed as well, she noted- just as she finished brushing her hair.

"Do you want the left or right side?" He asked, putting his stuff away in his suitcase.

"Excuse me?" She asked, grabbing the covers on the bed and pulling them down. "I am not sleeping in the same bed as you."

Oh for the love of… she was so fricking stubborn! "The floor's open," He told her.

"For you maybe," She sneered.

"It's a king sized bed," He pointed out. "I don't think it'll be a problem."

Grinding her back teeth, she nodded reluctantly. "As long as you don't move in your sleep," She answered sitting down on the right hand side.

"The same goes for you," He retorted, sitting on the opposite side.

After a five minute glaring war where they silently dared the other to lie down first, she broke the glare first and lay down, her back turned towards him. He took the truce and did the same, also turning his back to her.

Though they opened their mouths to do so several times, neither said goodnight.

* * *

SSB's note: Okay, I'm going to answer some questions to clear some things up.

Vaughn works for the same office as Sydney and Dixon, they just have never crossed paths before now.

Yes, this will be a S/V story.

Anything else, ask and you shall recieve an answer.

Thanks to **ALIASobsessed89, Lara783, soccerfreek324, Five Stories Fallen, TimeIsOnYourSide, Oreata, Lil Aussie Alias Chick, Number47, claire, Forceful, ArodLoverus2001, Natalie, dolphingurl1, Allegra Moon, noggi, SonnyCarlyJasonCourtney, sydofthesea, Antigone11, alias-sydney931001, SuperDuck123, gils, kelly, Aliasdoll, TheUptwonGirl, ktlee14, total vartan lover, katejones2005, Charlie, angelonwings, chickieedee, Serindipity9, BrSoccerChic**, **AliasFan47, **and **livingArtemis **for reviewing.

You guys rock my socks!  
Melanie

Next chapter: Of bathrooms and horses


	3. Of bathrooms and horses

It might have been the sun streaming in through the curtains they didn't close the night before that brought Sydney out of her sleep but it was something else that woke her.

A warm something that was breathing.

Blinking a couple times and licking her dry lips, she picked up her head and looked around. It was morning, obviously. But that wasn't what bothered her. Whatever was lying beneath her hand –and head before she picked it up- shocked her.

It was him.

Vaughn.

And his arm was around her waist.

"What the hell?" She screeched, wrenching away from his grasp.

Combine that with her screech and that made him jolt awake. "Wha…?" He wondered, blinking sleep out of his eyes.

"You moved!" She accused grabbing the sheet and pulling it around her. It gave her a weird sense of security and she wasn't about to fight it.

Then it hit him why she had screeched and was freaking out. He wasn't on his side of the bed, and he supposed that he'd been near her. But as he looked around something else became clear to him.

He wasn't the only one who'd moved.

"So did you," He shot back.

"Me?" She repeated scandalized. "_Your _arm was around _me_!"

"And you were in the middle of the bed," He countered. "So unless I dragged you, which I highly doubt, you move in your sleep too, _princess_."

Oh _shit_, she cursed. Glaring at him, she pulled the sheet around her closer. "I'm going for a run," She said finally, yanking the sheet off the bed and taking it with her as she went for her suitcase.

He sighed and rolled his eyes, muttering a few things under his breath as he climbed out of the bed as well.

"What are you doing?" She demanded, one hand on her hip, the other holding her running clothes.

"Going for a run," He answered not even bothering to look at her.

"But I'm going for a run," She felt the need to remind him.

"You think it's going to look good if you go for a run by yourself and then I go five minutes later?" He pointed out.

Throwing him a glare, she sighed. "I hate being married to you."

"I return the sentiment," He answered.

She was too busy stealing glances to the bathroom –which he was closer to- to glare at him again. When he's finally caught up with what she was looking at, she'd beaten him to the bathroom making sure to slam and lock the door behind her.

"Insufferable wench," He muttered.

"I heard that!" She yelled causing him to jump.

"That was kind of the point," He yelled back grabbing his clothes.

"Go to hell."

"Oh yes, we're the perfect happy couple," He sighed, rolling his eyes for what felt like the thousandth time.

Fifteen minutes later, they emerged from their hotel room, hands clasped and fake smiles plastered on their faces. It was early so not that many people were up and about yet if you didn't count the staff. The less people they had to put on a show for, they decided, the better.

Because he came along for the run, she couldn't bring her radio and without music to listen to while she ran, she tended to get irritable. More so than before.

"I want to go around the lake," She growled at him refusing to budge from the spot. If she was going to be the nice wife for the rest of the day, she needed to work out her anger. Therefore, more running.

"We'll be late for breakfast if you do that," He pointed out. Thanks to the CIA, they had the entire two weeks planned out, full of breakfasts and luncheons and spa visits.

"Who gives a shit," She shot back. "They live to serve us here, I don't think they'll mind if we're ten minutes late."

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see people giving them strange looks. "Come on, Mel," He said in his sweetest voice. "We can go for another run tonight."

Thankfully she caught the look he was sending her. Sighing loudly, for show mostly, she smiled at him. "Oh alright," She relented. "You swear that we'll go tonight?"

"Anything you want, darling," He replied dutifully.

She gave him another smile. "Let's walk back, James."

"You read my mind." Mirroring her smile, he offered her his arm which she took inwardly cringing.

"I've never seen anyone fight like them," A middle aged woman commented to her friend as the couple passed them. If Sydney didn't know any better, they were the same two women from the elevator last night.

"Me and my Richard used to fight like that," The woman's friend answered. "And we were married for fifty years."

"He probably died to get away from her," Vaughn whispered in her ear.

Sydney giggled, both at the sarcasm and it looked good to giggle. "Or he couldn't stand her gossiping with her friend anymore and left her," She whispered back

"Lucky old bastard," He commented causing her to giggle again. She could do this, she decided then, as long as he was nice like this for the next two weeks.

Vaughn didn't know what was wrong with him. Here he was, walking arm in arm with a woman he could barely stand and he was making jokes with her and _enjoying_ making her laugh. This Sydney was agreeable and to put it nicely, not a bitch. What happened to the woman from last night or from this morning before their run for that matter? God, she had to be bipolar or something.

She claimed the bathroom first which to save himself from another argument, he let happen. What surprised him was that she gave him a genuine smile for once when he agreed. Damn woman, she was confusing him now.

Sydney was deep into her own problem. Here he was, being agreeable and kind and polite and _nice_ and she couldn't bring herself to think even for a moment that he was being sincere about it. And that pissed her off. It was like pity in her mind and she hated pity.

What she wouldn't give to have another woman to talk to right about now.

"Bathroom's all yours," She told him, walking out while running a brush through her still damp hair. Blow dryers were avoided at all costs. Her hair was damaged enough as it was.

"Thanks," He said a little too agreeably for her taste.

"We have ten minutes," She called to him looking over their schedule for the day. Breakfast, sight seeing, and… oh crap, horseback riding. She hated horseback riding. Ever since she had been thrown off as a little girl she hated it.

Frowning slightly, she went over to the door and knocked on it. "Did you know that we were going horseback riding?"

Silence.

And then, "We're what?"

"Horseback riding," She repeated. "Thanks to the schedule the CIA provided us with."

A couple seconds later the water shut off. She assumed he was done with his shower and God was she glad that the door was closed. "Um… I'm not really a big fan of horses." When he was younger, one of his uncle's horses had bitten him. Since then, he'd lost his taste for the animal.

"You're not?" She squeaked. This was unfair. The more she got to know him, the more she found that she had more in common with him than met the eye. She didn't want to have anything in common with him.

"No," He replied taken aback by her squeak. Here he thought that he had offended her or something. "Is that a problem?"

"No," She gushed immediately. "It's not. I… don't like horses much either."

He froze. Oh, she did _not_ just say that. "You don't?"

She shook her head. "No, I haven't for years." She paused before adding. "I was thrown off as a little girl and I've never brought myself to get back on one."

"I was bitten by one," He admitted. A few minutes later, the door opened –thank God he was dressed- and he looked at her, drying his hair with a towel. "So… what are we going to do?"

"I don't know," She sighed. "The CIA made this reservation under our names. We can't just back out at the last second." Somehow, the CIA had found out that Sark and Reed were going to be going horseback riding and added it to the agents' schedule. They were there to watch the other couple, not have fun.

He nodded, slight worry lines appearing on his forehead. "You up to attempting horseback riding again?"

She bit her lip and almost shook her head (_screw the mission_, she thought). "We don't really have a choice do we?"

He shook his head, obviously not pleased with the idea either. "No, I don't believe we do."

"Then I guess we're going horseback riding."

**-break-**

Breakfast was a… odd affair. And that was putting it nicely. It wasn't that they were fighting over every little thing that made it different. It was that they weren't fighting.

At all.

"Can you pass me the sports section?" Vaughn asked.

"If you give me the entertainment," Sydney responded.

"Here," They swamped sections of the newspaper. And there was no fighting about it what so ever. She was starting to wonder if there was something in their food.

"Is it just me or are these eggs undercooked?" She asked, poking at her eggs testily with her fork.

He grabbed his own fork and sampled a bit of her eggs. "They're undercooked," He agreed.

And there was still no fighting.

"Do you think they put different flowers on the tables for every meal?" She mused aloud.

"I'd bet on it," He replied. "Five star hotels are like that."

She nodded, having experience with a lot of five star hotels in her time. "It's a waste of money that would be better put towards charities."

"I couldn't agree more."

And yet still no fighting. Worse, they were agreeing now. What was the world coming to? It had to be a sign of the apocalypse, they were both sure of it.

"We should get going," He said just as she'd finished her coffee. "Or we're going to be late." One thing he never understood about stables in the mountains was that you had to make an appointment to ride one of the damn horses. Seriously, who thought up that shit?

"Alright," She replied getting to her feet.

This wasn't show anymore. They really were getting along and it was the strangest thing either one had felt.

Naturally it all went downhill from there.

They got the corral easily enough. But when one of ranch hands whistled lewdly (and made a few rude gestures) at Sydney as she walked past, Vaughn did something neither one of them expected. He put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her as close as he could, sending a glare to the ranch hand over her head. Everything he did screamed 'My girl! Back or I'll kill you!'

She could read people easily and what bothered her the most was that the look in his eyes wasn't pretend. He really did want to kill that guy and just because he had whistled at her.

"What are you doing?" She hissed. If this was one of his machoist things, then he had another thing coming.

"Huh?" He blinked. "What are you talking about? That guy…" How could she be so calm about some stranger doing the things that guy did? _This girl is not normal by any means_, he thought.

"So?" She growled low enough so no one else heard her. "I'm _used_ to it." One thing she had learned growing up in L.A. and then entering a business where men liked to leer at her was to build a resistance to it and ignore the bastards. It really didn't bother her anymore.

"You shouldn't have to get used to it," He argued.

"Why is it even any of your business?" She questioned, raising an eyebrow at him.

"We're supposed to be married," He reminded her.

He was lying, she could tell. Lying to her face made her cranky. "Well as my _husband_," She sneered, "respect my decision to just ignore the prick."

"Whatever you want, _darling_," He hissed back. Oh and now he was being a sarcastic bastard again. Two could play at this game.

She gave him a dirty look, "Go to hell."

"You've already told me to do that, today," He reminded her.

Just as she was about to retort something, a man approached them. "You wouldn't happen to be the Adams would you?"

"We are," Sydney replied testily.

The man's face broke into a smile. "Welcome to Elk Mountain Stables. Name's Rider and I'll be getting you acquainted with your horses today."

Sydney gave him a smile. "Nice to meet you, Rider."

Vaughn gave Rider a skeptical look. Something irked him about him. What was it with ranch hands and leering at married women? Idiots. "So, horses."

Rider jumped and nodded as though he had just been reminded that he worked at a stable. "Right, this way." He beckoned them towards the barn. "How much experience have you had with horses, Mrs. Adams?" There the man just said it himself. She was married –or supposed to be- and he kept giving her looks like she wasn't anyway!

"Little," Sydney answered. "I'm not really an outdoors kind of girl."

"Then you can try Lady," Rider told her, nodding towards a chestnut colored mare. "She's the mildest tempered horse I've ever met."

"Thanks," Sydney gave him another smile and stepped off to go pet the horse on the nose.

Rider turned to Vaughn, "And you, Mr. Adams? Any experience with horses?"

Except for the fact that he'd been bitten by one, he had experience and he could ride well enough. "Enough," He answered gruffly.

Rider gave him a half skeptical half annoyed look. "Think you're up to trying Lightning?"

Wow, he really didn't like the sound of that horse's name. Lightning meant speed and speed meant one hell of a headache if he fell off. That convinced him; Rider was out to kill him. "Definitely," Vaughn replied, his jaw set with determination.

Sydney raised an eyebrow, having heard the entire conversation. "Are you sure James?" She asked.

"Positive, Melissa," Vaughn replied firmly.

Sydney shrugged and put her foot in the stirrup, swinging herself onto the back of Lady. Rider had been right, she was the most mild tempered horse she had ever met. Hopefully that would mean she wouldn't be thrown.

Vaughn on the other hand… it looked to be a definite that he would be thrown. Rider led a black stallion (who was fighting the man's lead tooth and nail) over to Vaughn who was silently starting to rethink his decision.

"I'll hold him still while you get on," Rider informed Vaughn as he stared the horse.

"Um, okay," Vaughn answered approaching the horse very cautiously. Lightning was giving him the creeps. Was it just him or did the horse have blood lust in his eyes? Rider was definitely out to kill him. Moving as guardedly as he could, he finally managed to get on top of the horse a full five minutes later.

"If you're nervous, we can get you another horse," Rider said as he handed Vaughn the reigns.

Something about the look in the man's eye made Vaughn set his jaw again and shake his head. "I think I can handle it."

Rider shrugged. "Suit yourself. If you follow the path there, it'll take you towards the ski resort. Scenery's great this time of year."

"Thanks," Sydney said giving the man yet another smile. She gave Lady a light tap to the flanks with her heel and the mare starting walking.

When Vaughn did the same to Lightning, however, the horse spooked. With a scared sort of noise, it took off galloping at a fast pace out of the barn. It certainly earned its name.

"Should've told him not to kick Lightning," Rider mused aloud, sounding amused.

Sydney gave him a sharp look. "You mean—"

Her sentence was cut off by the sound of a horse rearing and a loud thud from the direction of Vaughn and Lightning. When Sydney dared herself to look, she gasped and barely kept herself from yelling out 'Vaughn!' _That_ would have ruined everything.

"James!" She cried, dismounting Lady immediately and running for her supposed husband where he lay unmoving in the dirt. Sensing that his "error" had more disastrous results, Rider followed. "James, are you okay?" She whispered, taking his head in her lap.

Vaughn opened his eyes with a great struggle and nodded slightly. "Yeah… I just got thrown from a horse, that's all."

"Stay down," She ordered when he tried to sit up. "Does anything hurt?" She was too concerned about his health to stop and think that she wasn't pretending anymore.

"Only my pride," He replied gloomily.

Her face broke into a weak smile. "Come on, we're going back to the hotel."

"Mrs. Adams, Mr. Adams, I can't even begin to apologize for Lightning's behavior," Rider put in, looking worried that he might have a law suit against him. He'd been so distracted by Mrs. Adams to have them sign the release forms.

"You can start by calling a cab for us," Sydney retorted giving him a glare. "And we just might not sue you."

"Certainly," Rider answered immediately. He turned to one of the ranch hands and said in a low tone, "Tell the Sarks that I'll be right with them" before striding off.

At the mention of the Sarks, Sydney snapped back to reality. They had come to the stables to spy on Reed and Sark. Well, screw the mission for today. An agent's health mattered more.

She still hadn't realized that her worrying was genuine.

**-break-**

"Get in the bed and shut up," Sydney ordered after they stumbled into the hotel room.

"Yes ma'am," Vaughn replied darkly as he sat down on the edge of the bed, clutching an ice pack to his head. Despite his insistence that he was fine, she wouldn't hear any of it. The hotel doctor said rest and that was what he was going to do.

"Take these," She commanded, thrusting a couple of aspirin and a glass of water into his hands.

He took the aspirin dutifully, taking a large gulp of water. "Can we go to dinner now?" They had reservations at some fancy restaurant that evening. Again thanks to the CIA and it's determination to match their schedules to Sark and Reed's as much as possible.

"No," She answered firmly. "We're ordering room service tonight."

"We can't do the mission if we're locked up in our hotel room," He pointed out.

"We can't do the mission if you're in the hospital for over working yourself after getting a concussion," She countered. "We're staying in tonight."

"If you insist," He replied caving.

"What made you decide to ride that damn horse anyway?" She demanded. "I thought you hated them."

"I never said I hated them," He countered.

"Fine, you're not a fan of them," She corrected. "I repeat my question, what made you decide to ride that damn horse?"

He shrugged. "I thought I could handle it," He replied. "I guess I was wrong." Like he was going to tell her that he really decided to ride the horse because he wanted to prove to Rider that he was the better man and therefore deserved to be with the woman he was with. Stupid he knew, considering he wasn't technically with her. But still, that Goddamn ranch hand had pissed him off.

"Very wrong," She added.

"Alright, very wrong and stupid, that suit you?"

She flashed him a triumphant smile. "Now, what do you want for dinner?"

"Whatever you feel like ordering," He answered with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"I heard the shrimp pasta was good," She thought aloud. "Sound good?"

"You gonna get some Chardonnay with that?"

She gave him a sarcastic smile. "Of course," She answered. "It might help with your bad mood." She left him to that thought as she crossed the room to the phone to order their food.

Yeah, he was only in a bad mood because Rider had given him a psychotic horse that spooked if you tapped it with your heels. When she had told him Rider had said during the cab ride back to the hotel that had only convinced him more that Rider had been out to get him.

She called him paranoid.

"When do we have to check in with Kendall?" He asked when she hung up the phone.

"Nine AM tomorrow," She replied picking up their schedule for the next day. "Right before our Mineral scrub and bath and then massages," She added frowning slightly. "You don't think we have to take that bath together do you?"

He laughed at her disgusted expression. "I'd bet on it."

"Bring a suit," Sydney ordered.

"As long as you do," Vaughn replied.

"Deal."

Funny thing was she still had yet to realize that her worry about him was genuine. Or that she hadn't gotten that second run promised to her. And that she didn't care for that matter.

* * *

**SSB's note**: Yeah, it was a bit cliched and expected to have them wake up together but you know what, I like it the way it is and it's a-staying. Oh and expect the love/hate thing to stick around for a while longer because love at first sight bothers me and this is so much more entertaining.

Thanks to: **soccerfreeek324, ALIASobsessed89, Allegra Moon, livingArtemis, Oreata, dolphingurl1, Lara783, TimeIsOnYourSide, vaughn is hot, alias-sydney93001, Natalie, ArodLoverus2001, Serindipity9, SoApQueEn, Ginnie, Nacy O, chickieedee, SuperDuck123, angelonwings, lec, AliasDoll, Lil Aussie Alias Chick,**and** justadrawer** for reviewing.

Love yas!

Next chapter: Of spas and cranky Sydneys.


	4. Of spas and cranky Sydneys

"How's the head?" Sydney asked as the pair made their way down to the lounge for breakfast.

After some bitching, neither had had relented to sleeping on the floor. He complained of having fallen off the damn horse so therefore the bed should be his and she claimed that she got a crick in her side if she slept on the floor. If she had a crick, then she couldn't go running and then she would be a royal bitch for him.

So they devised a new plan. They called room service and ordered six extra pillows (which earned them a wink from the perverted bell boy) and piled those pillows in the center of the bed. It was awkward, stupid, and the best idea they had so far. Both woke up on their own side the bed, completely void of the other.

"Fine," Vaughn shrugged.

"Just fine?"

Rolling his eyes, he replied with his voice dripping of sarcasm, "It's all better now thanks to Sydney's special healing which included bitching at me and smacking me when I wouldn't give up the bathroom."

First of all, he deserved the bitching for trying to get himself killed on the psychotic horse and second of all, he took forty minutes in the bathroom. What kind of man does that? So when he'd finally come out, she rewarded him with a smack to the head and a door slam in his face.

"Do you see them?" He asked in a hushed voice.

She continued to survey the lounge before spotting their target. "Yeah, in the corner," She nodded towards Sark and Reed.

"There," He said gesturing as discreetly as possible towards an empty table near the other couple. "After you," He added snidely.

"Okay," She replied ignoring his tone and marching over to the table he indicated. Today, she was getting spa treatment (something she hadn't had in months) and she wasn't going to let him mess it up.

"You seem in a right jolly mood today," He commented after they'd ordered. She'd spent ten minutes glaring at her menu, intent on ignoring him.

"Shut up," She growled, fiddling with her fork boredly. Without her menu to distract herself with, she had nothing to do. Talking with him was out of the question.

"Wake up on the wrong side of the bed or something?" He continued, obviously ignoring her growl.

Her grip on her fork increased but she determinedly refused to look at him. "You weren't there," She replied icily. "So it was very pleasant."

"I thought you said that if you slept on the bed, that you wouldn't be a royal bitch," He commented, her tone having little affect on him.

By then, her knuckles were turning white. "Maybe I'm a royal bitch because you won't shut the hell up."

As far as he could tell, no one was listening to their conversation. Which was merciful because they were definitely _not_ sounding like newlyweds at the moment. "Can you just put aside your anger towards me that probably has a reason, I just don't care enough to find out what it is and help me spy on people?"

Well if that wasn't the strangest question she had ever heard… she sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. "We have to call Kendall."

"Subtle," He murmured, glancing over her head at the Sarks. "And what are we going to tell him? We haven't exactly done anything related to our mission yet."

She sighed. "Well, whose fault is that mister fall off a fricking horse?"

"So you're blaming it on me?"

"You said it, not me," She replied.

"We need to get closer to them," He stated, forcing himself to ignore her snide remarks. He was a grown man, he could do it. Somehow.

"Yes, I am aware of that," She answered in a clipped tone.

"Then why aren't we doing anything about it?"

"Because we have to be careful," She snapped. "Are you new at this or something?"

"Being married or nice to you?" He shot back.

Her eyes narrowed but she bypassed the commented nonetheless. "We have to do this gradually. We can't just go waltzing up to them and expect them to trust us immediately. I thought we settled this."

"No, you settled it," He countered. On the plane, she had refused to make any sort of plan with him and now it was coming to bite them in the asses. "We have to approach them."

"No we don't," She replied stubbornly.

"Kendall is going to ask what our plan is," He pointed out. "Are you going to be the one to tell him that we have none?"

"Can you just shut up for thirty seconds, pleasekthanks?" Sydney snapped, rubbing her forehead. Thanks to the bastard, she was getting a headache. And that made for cranky Sydney.

Of course, he didn't know she was getting a headache, so he didn't listen to her. "You're avoiding the issue," He told her. "I'm going to tell Kendall that you're slacking off on the mission."

"You do that," She sneered jumping to her feet suddenly. "I'll see you later."

"Where are you going?" He asked with a definite hate to his voice.

"Away from you," She replied grabbing her purse.

"What about breakfast?" He asked next, his tone different. People were starting to stare at them so he added, "darling" hastily.

Her gaze hardened at the pet name. "Screw breakfast," She replied. Apparently, she didn't notice that people were staring at them. "I'm not hungry."

"Are you sure?" He asked nicely. He wasn't exactly sure where he had gone wrong and pissed her off so badly but he had and now he was reaping that reward. Why couldn't she just be agreeable?

"Positive," She growled.

"I'll see you at the spa then?"

She turned to leave without replying to that. Of course he would see her at the spa. She wasn't going to skip out on the mission just because he was being an insufferable bastard. She turned half way before changing her mind and turning back. He straightened, thinking she had caved for once, with a small smirk crossing his face.

"You have food on your shirt," She observed in a hard tone glancing down at his shirt and then back at his face before turning on her heel and storming out of the lounge.

So much for her caving.

"If you want my advice," a haughty British accented man's voice said quietly, "Just indulge her. It works for my Lauren."

Vaughn looked up and sure enough there was Julian Sark standing near his table. And Reed was right by his side. "Melissa's just in a bad mood," He replied with a forced smile. "She gets that way during her time of the month." So that story had just been made up but it did cover for a lot of Sydney's tantrums.

Lauren giggled and Sark sent her a reproving look. "You're newlyweds, right?" He asked. "The Adams, correct?"

Vaughn nodded. "Yes, we are." He kept his suspicion at Sark knowing that information hidden well.

"I'm sorry," Sark said and he looked it. "It has to be terrible to have a honeymoon with your wife on her period."

Vaughn was biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. "We have two weeks here, I think we'll get around to it eventually."

Sark laughed while Lauren giggled again. "Maybe we could have drinks sometime."

"I'm sure Melissa and I would love that," Vaughn replied. Well, this worked out easier than he'd thought. They had come to him.

"Excellent," Sark replied. "We'll call you sometime."

Vaughn nodded, not bothering to ask how they would call them. The hotel manager would tell the couple what room the Adams were in if they sucked up badly enough and then they could leave a message on the room's machine. "We'll be waiting."

Sark nodded and glanced at his watch. "Oh, I'm sorry but we have somewhere to be. Good day Mr. Adams."

"Good day," Vaughn replied waiting until they had disappeared from the lounge to let out the breath he had been holding. Wait until he told Sydney, she'd have a royal fit that he had beaten her at something.

Sydney paced around the lobby fuming for a solid twenty minutes. This was getting to be too much to deal with. Had this been any other time in her life, it might have been easier. But her personal life was stressful enough without Vaughn in it. First her boyfriend leaves her, Francie believes that she's jealous of her and Charlie, Will is just getting creepier by the second and her father and her haven't spoken in three going on four months now. And to top it all off, she had to spend two fricking weeks pretending to be married to the world's largest nincompoop.

See, if she had a boyfriend, this would be so much easier. She could call him and bitch about how much her partner was bothering her. She could listen to him threaten to beat the living shit out of Vaughn if he tried anything. She could take pleasure in knowing that after these two weeks, she could go home to someone who loved her.

But no, the bastard had to go and leave her. Both in the relationship sense and the sense that she was alone with the nincompoop. That was his new nickname now, nincompoop.

God did she wish she could talk to her aunts.

_No Sydney, _her mind berated her_, you have to stop crying over spilt milk._

"Melissa?" Vaughn asked unsure if he dared to approach her. She looked… pissed. And a pissed Sydney was not one he wanted to be around.

Sydney whirled around and glared. "What?"

"Hey now… I come in peace," He answered his tone still hesitant.

She gave him a look and rolled her eyes. "It's almost nine."

"Thanks for that news flash," He muttered sarcastically rolling his eyes back at her.

"Cut the crap," She snapped. The sarcasm might have been tolerated had she been in a better mood. But she wasn't and so he would just have to work around her mood.

"I could say the same thing about you," He pointed out.

Apparently, just shutting up was too complicated for him. She rolled her eyes again and gestured impatiently towards the payphone in the lobby. "After you."

"No please," He countered, voice dripping with sarcasm, "after you."

Suppressing the almost overwhelming urge to smack him, she turned from him abruptly and marched over to the payphone. Much to her dismay, she realized that she had left her purse in the room and consequently had no change on her. Why Kendall had insisted they communicate with him on a payphone was beyond her. Gritting her back teeth, she forced a smile and turned towards her partner. "Oh James!"

Vaughn's eyebrow cocked, more in amusement than anything else. "Yes Melissa?"

She hated having to ask him for money. She hated it even more that he felt no need to be near the phone with her. "Can you come here for a sec?"

"Why?"

She almost growled at him, but thankfully kept from doing that. There wasn't anyone in the lobby besides the desk receptionist and a bell boy that were flirting but there were cameras and these cameras had sound. "Because."

"Because why?" He was being an ass and he knew it but she was being a royal pain in his ass all during breakfast (or what breakfast they had had together) and this was payback.

"Because I said so and if you don't get over here right now I'm going to tell Daddy Kendall not to send that toaster over." She called back, a poisoned honey tone in her voice.

That got him. Daddy Kendall meant Kendall but toaster? He had no clear idea but it probably meant he'd be fired. Now that wouldn't be good. Sighing he set his jaw and put on a fake smile. "Sure thing."

For a moment, her smile twitched into a smirk. "Good boy."

"Don't refer to me like I'm your dog," He hissed in her ear after he reached her. Of course, before then, he couldn't resist walking over as slowly as he could just to prolong her suffering a little.

"Why?" She asked with tones of mock innocence. "You act like one."

"What to d'you want?"

"Besides you to hold up your part in this mission meaning you have to check in with Kendall too?" She questioned rhetorically. "A quarter."

He smirked. "You need money?"

"No," She defended immediately. "I mean… maybe. Yes."

His eyebrow started to rise again. "Do you need the damn quarter or not?"

She just stuck out her palm and waited for him to hand her the money as her answer.

For his sake, he didn't roll his eyes at her as he fished in his pocket for a quarter. "Here you go _princess_."

"Shut up nincompoop," She growled snatching the quarter and shoving it into the coin slot.

The name was what had stunned him into not retorting. Nincompoop? What was she… twelve? The last time he heard that insult, it had been on the playground.

"Mum?" She asked, interrupting his thoughts. "It's Melissa." For a moment, he was confused before he remembered that was their cover. She was supposed to be calling her parents and giving them an update. "Can I talk to Daddy?"

He started tapping his feet impatiently causing her to give him a hard look. "Stop doing that," She hissed.

"Doing what?"

"Being so damn annoying," She answered cradling the phone between her chin and shoulder.

When she turned away, he rolled his eyes at her and leaned against the wall near the payphone.

Five minutes and two 'Yeah, I'll hold's later, Sydney sighed and hung up the phone. That actually surprised him. And she didn't talk to Kendal because…?

"C'mon," She hissed stalking off from the payphone looking more angry than she had before.

"What the _hell_ was that all about?" He demanded in a low tone once he'd found his voice. They were about half way to the spa when that was.

"Kendall wasn't in," She answered calmly. "We have to call back later."

He wasn't in. He set up the damn check in time and he wasn't there? Bastard. "Define later."

"This afternoon," She informed him. In truth, the receptionist said that Kendall would be back in ten minutes but then the fricking lady had transferred Sydney to her father and without a word, she'd hung up. She wasn't going to start talking to her father now.

"Do you have specific time?" He pushed.

She growled and turned to him. "He'll be in this afternoon. We'll call back then." She repeated with a tone that made no room for argument. "Now if you don't mind, I'd like to go get a massage now."

"Whatever you want, princess," He muttered.

"Stop calling me that."

"Stop acting like it."

"Bite me."

"I'd rather not."

"So you've said," She replied dryly. "Is shutting up beyond your capabilities too?"

"Only if it's within yours," He responded.

She didn't even bother to reply to that, just rolling her eyes and walking down the hall without him.

"Insufferable wench," He muttered before following her, dragging his heels slightly.

"You have_ got_ to be kidding me!"

Well, that wasn't a sentence he wanted to hear coming from his supposed wife. Moving towards the source of her voice, which was just around the corner, he saw Sydney looking like she was about to kill the hotel worker in front of her.

"What's going on here?" Vaughn put in trying to spare the hotel worker.

"This _idiot_ here is telling me that the spa is closed down," She growled.

Oh well no wonder she looked pissed. Firstly the mission is screwed (more so considering the day before's events) and secondly, she was going to be in an even worse mood than before. She'd been looking forward to the spa thing, he could tell.

"It's just temporary," The worker protested. Now he looked genuinely scared of Sydney. Vaughn didn't blame him. "Just for today."

"We had reservations for today," Sydney screeched. This had been the final straw. Now there was no coming back until all of her rage was gone.

"I'm sorry ma'am," The pitiful man answered his voice shaking dangerously. "We can reschedule you and you husband."

Sydney opened her mouth to yell something else when Vaughn clamped a hand over it to keep her silent. "That would be great." He answered. "As soon as you can, please." He waited until the worker had nodded rapidly and disappeared behind his desk before grabbing her by the elbow and dragging her around the corner. "You could _not_ yell at the help you know."

Sydney growled and grabbed his hand ripping it off her face roughly. "He deserved it."

He nodded slowly, raising an unamused eyebrow at her. "Did he now…?"

"Yes," She replied forcefully. "He did."

"Did he make the spa close down for the day?"

"Well, no," She admitted uneasily.

"Was he rude to you when he told you it was closed?"

"Not really, no."

"Then how did he deserve it?"

Damn him and his logic. "He just did."

"That's mature."

"Go to hell."

"And how many times do you plan on saying that to me during the next two weeks?" He asked sounding a little bored. Well… her little hissy fit wasn't amusing anymore.

"Until you listen," She answered coldly.

"Oh, so the whole time then."

"Looks like it," She replied using the same poisoned honey tone he'd used on her just a moment before.

"Good luck with that," He rolled his eyes, shifting his weight. "Oh, I forgot to tell you-"

"Tell me what?" She interrupted.

Oh so _now_ she was nice and attentive. Insane little… "If you'll shut up and not interrupt me, I'll tell you."

She threw him a nasty glare before crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm listening."

"Good," He responded with a half smirk. "We're having drinks with the Sarks sometime in the near future."

Though she tried not to, her jaw dropped. "You approached them without me?" She asked after finally getting a grip on her voice again.

"Actually, they approached me," He corrected. Yeah, it was mean and wrong to be enjoying this because she was such a brat that he didn't care. "It seems your fit caught their attention."

She gave him another glare. "What exactly did you tell them?"

"That we were honeymooners," He explained. "And you're on your period."

"You said _what_?" She hissed, eyes flashing dangerously.

"What _else_ was I supposed to tell them?" He hissed back. "That we're really there to spy on them and you threw a fit because we hate each other?"

"That sounds like something you'd do," She answered icily.

"Only when you're around," He shot back.

"You tell yourself that." She answered dismissively.

He couldn't be able to say exactly what it was about her that made his blood boil but it was something and that something made his blood boil a lot. Maybe it was a good thing that the hotel worker chose that time to come back to them. He was pretty sure he would have strangled her if he hadn't.

"Mr. and Mrs. Adams?" The pitiful man squeaked.

"Yes," Sydney answered, her tone hard. She was mad with this guy and Vaughn, so she wouldn't have even been nice to the effing president.

"The earliest I could get you in is next Thursday at four," He informed them nervously.

She gave a slight twitch but other than that, kept a good hold on her temper. "Alright," She said slowly. "That will do perfectly."

Vaughn was a little bit proud of her for keeping a hold on her temper and not blowing up on the guy again. "Yes, perfectly," He echoed.

The employee gave a relieved sigh and nodded. "I'm sorry for that inconvenience."

Sydney rolled her eyes slightly and nodded courteously. "It's not your fault," She answered pleasantly.

"Enjoy the rest of your stay at St. Regis," The man finished, nodding to them before practically running from Sydney. It seemed her nice attitude had freaked him out more than if she had yelled at him.

"So you can be pleasant," Vaughn observed sardonically.

She rolled her eyes at him, opening her mouth to say something but changed her mind a half second later. Another half second and her mouth was open again.

_She might actually apologize_, he thought with a small smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

"You still have food on your shirt," Sydney informed him giving his chest a poke right in the food stain before turning on her heel and stalking off.

So much for an apology.

* * *

**SSB's note**: Review responses are on my livejournal.

Next chapter: Of hang ups and exploring


	5. Of hang ups and exploring

She groaned and rolled over, hugging the pillow closer to her. Curiosity seemed to get the better of her and such, she opened one eye to see what time it was. Six thirteen in the morning. Well… this was interesting. Her alarm wasn't set until seven.

Then what the hell woke her up? Couldn't have been Vaughn because the pillow mountain was still in between them and he didn't snore as far as she knew. Although, knowing him, he'd probably picked up the habit just so he could annoy her. Nincompoop.

Or it could be something stupid like her phone was ringing.

Well, that made more sense.

"That had better not be your phone," Vaughn mumbled from his side of the bed.

"So what if it is," Sydney answered already in a snappish tone. Apparently her bad mood from the day before didn't lessen any seeing as she was very unfairly awoken by her damned cell phone.

"If it is… I'm going to take a hammer to it," He replied.

"Let's see the hammer then."

"It was figure of speech."

She rolled her eyes, sticking one arm out to grab the phone off of her bedside table. "Hello?"

Only static responded.

With a small growl, she frowned and repeated, "Hello?" Damned phone, the reception was always cutting out.

Still only static.

"Look, is someone there?"

Yet more effing static.

"Fine then," She grumbled, hitting the 'end' button and tossing the phone back onto the table.

Just as she was about to get back to sleep, he decided to speak, "You got a hang up?"

"Yes."

"At six fifteen in the morning?"

"It's not like I arranged it," She replied. "It was probably Francie calling to tell me more about her wedding." Add in a bad connection and the theory worked.

"Who's Francie?"

Why did he even want to know? That was a better question. "My friend."

"Who's getting married," He added.

"Yes, who's getting married," She agreed. "Is there a reason why you want to know this?"

"Just curious," He replied off handedly.

"Be less curious then," She grumbled, giving her pillow a punch to make it more comfortable.

Just as she was about to get back to sleep, he asked, "How come I've never heard of Francie before?"

She growled. "Because I haven't mentioned her." That was a pretty obvious one. And he called himself a spy.

"Why haven't you?"

Oh for the love of God. "Because I don't like talking to you in case you haven't noticed."

Oh, he'd noticed. That one he'd noticed. He wasn't really adamant about talking to her either. "I need to know these things."

"Then check your folder," She answered. If she ever had the overpowering need to find out anything about him, then she'd go check the folder Kendall gave her. He should give her the same courtesy and do the same.

A frown crossed his features, as he turned his head to give the mountain of pillows an odd look. Had she been within his sight, the look would have been given to her. What folder was she talking about? He had a lot of folders… she was going to have to be a little more specific than that.

Oh wait. That one folder Kendall gave him when he first met _her_. That one that had background information on her. That one that he had glanced at once and hadn't picked up since. Right. Or he could just ask her. That was so much easier than riffling through a file, looking for a best friend's name.

"Or I'll just ask you," He countered.

"Or you really could check that folder." She replied.

"Or I might just ask you instead."

"Or you could check the folder and not talk to me."

"Why are you being so stubborn about this?" He asked.

She huffed, sitting up halfway. So _much for getting back to sleep_, she thought ruefully. Fine, she'd just go for a longer run today. "Because. I. Can." She replied, shoving the covers off her legs, stretching her arms above her head at the same time.

The sound of her rummaging around in her dresser for _something_ caused his frown to increase and him to sit up. "What are you doing?" He asked.

She didn't stop when she heard him ask a question. "I'm looking for my running clothes."

"Aren't they on the chair?" He asked, yawning into the back of his hand.

Now she stopped. With a small frown, she dropped the clothes from the drawer in her hands, looking over towards the chair he mentioned. Oh. Well then. Why hadn't she thought of that? "Um, thanks." She muttered, closing the dresser drawer with her knee before heading for the chair.

"No problem," He replied with another yawn. "Going for a run I presume?" He asked rhetorically. Okay, this was getting weird. How was it that five minutes ago they were fighting and now they were acting like some sort of… _couple_?

"Mmmhmm…" She replied, grabbing the clothes off the chair and then stopping dead in her movements. Without even realizing that it was _him_ in the room, she had almost reached for the hem of her shirt and just changed right there. Oh god would that have been embarrassing if she had.

If he noticed her 'moment' he didn't show any sign of it. With another yawn, he pushed off the bed, heading straight for the bathroom. "I'm going to take a shower."

"Okay," She replied automatically, waiting until the door had closed behind him to let out that long over due sigh. How could she almost have done that? How could she have almost had changed right in front of him?

It was only after she heard him lock the door did she move to change out of her pajamas.

**-break-**

Sydney let out a small huff, slowly bringing herself to a stop. God did she love running. She had too much energy to just sit around and running took care of that energy pretty damn well. She swallowed hard, breathing hard through her nose as she walked off the path to stretch against a bench.

Putting both hands on the back of the bench, she leaned forward, smiling to herself when she felt that stretch in her hamstrings. Slowly, she glanced around the small park, looking for someone. When she had been running, she thought she saw…

"Hello."

Okay, the woman had found her. That was just a little bit suspicious. In fact, if she didn't know any better, she'd say that she was being followed.

_No, that is ridiculous. You're at the only bench for a good hundred yards and she's just going to stretch too. Stop being paranoid_.

With a smile, Sydney returned the "hello" as she straightened. "I wouldn't have had you pegged as a runner," She commented.

Reed gave her a smile in return along with a laugh. "I love to run." She replied.

"I meant…" Sydney corrected, the smile still on her face. "That you wouldn't go anywhere without your husband." She hadn't seen Sark running unfortunately. Studying them together might have helped a little.

Reed laughed again. "Julian hates running." She answered. "He says that it's just a waste of time." She gave a small shrug before adding, "But I love it."

Sydney nodded slowly, putting that little bit of information in the back of her mind. Being a spy for years had taught her to get to know the little details about the person you were following. It made stealing from them or in this case, finding out their agenda much easier.

"Where's your husband?" Lauren asked.

She was going to have to get used to people referring to the nincompoop as her husband. At least for the rest of the two weeks which was officially eleven more days. Nothing including this one.

"Sleeping most likely," Sydney answered, lying a little though she wasn't convinced that he hadn't fallen asleep again after she'd left. Not that she really cared either way. Just as long as he was out of that bathroom by the time she came back.

Lauren gave another laugh. "When are they not sleeping, right?"

"Right," Sydney agreed, giving the other woman an odd look out of the corner of her eye. If she had to guess, it sounded like Lauren was trying to throw her off. She almost seemed to be _acting_ like a typical American wife making small talk with another wife. It was too fake. Too practiced. And completely suspicious.

Lauren caught one glance of Sydney's expression and changed her tune immediately. "Are you doing anything today?"

"Besides dragging my husband out of bed?" Sydney replied, pretending that she didn't notice the change in the other one's voice.

"Yes, besides that," Lauren laughed.

Sydney laughed expectedly. "No… not really." Her entire plan consisted of spying on Sark and Reed. She couldn't exactly tell her that now could she?

"Would you like to go shopping?"

Sydney knew the end of the question was 'with me?' Did she want to go shopping with Lauren Reed? Her first reaction was no way in hell. Spending an entire afternoon with that woman would not be something she would enjoy. But… if it would help the mission in any way, she was obliged to do it. In fact, if she didn't do it, she'd have Kendall and her dad and mister high and mighty on her ass.

She put on a bright smile and nodded. "I would love that."

"Really?" Lauren asked, very obviously faking it again. "I'll meet you in the lobby. Say… ten thirty? We can have lunch."

Sydney glanced at her watch. It was a little before eight now. Wow, she'd been out for a long time. No… that was getting off topic. _Stay focused, Syd_. She'd have a little over two hours to get back, shower, inform her 'husband' of her plans, and then get down to the lobby. No problem. As long as she left for the hotel now.

"Ten thirty it is," She replied sweetly. She gave a laugh before adding, "What do you think our husbands will do without us?"

"Go insane of course," Lauren answered.

Sydney laughed again. "I think my husband's already insane." She answered. Of course he was. Judging by the way he acted, the man was a temper tantrum away from a straight jacket.

"Well… he is a man in love." Lauren replied.

What?

Not uh.

No way.

Ew.

Gross.

Sick!

Wait… she doesn't know that she hated Vaughn. Right. Maybe a narcotic wouldn't be such a bad idea for her to take before attempting to go shopping with Reed for most of the day.

"… and no matter what any one says, a man in love always acts recklessly," Lauren finished, completely unaware to Sydney's inner turmoil.

Sydney gave her another smile and a nod. "Don't have to tell me twice," She replied, glancing at her watch again. "I should probably get back."

"Right of course," Lauren replied, the fake bright tone coming back for yet another round. "I'll see you in the lobby."

"I wouldn't miss it," Sydney replied, setting off down the path again, heading back to the hotel.

**-break-**

"Oh good. You're out of the bathroom," Sydney commented, walking back into the hotel room to find him on the bed watching TV. The stack of pillows had disappeared like they always did during the day.

Vaughn rolled his eyes, flipping the channel before answering. "I'm not you. I don't take three hours in the bathroom."

She gave him a look, pulling her ponytail out. She shook her hair out. "I do not take three hours in the bathroom." She countered.

"You tell yourself that."

She gave him a glare, sitting on the edge of the bed to take off her shoes. "I'm going shopping with Reed." She announced, slipping one trainer off.

That got his attention. He stared at the side of her head for a full ten seconds before he found his voice. "You're—what?"

"I'm going shopping with Reed," She repeated evenly, slipping her other trainer off and now focusing on taking her socks off.

"When was this decided?" He demanded.

"When I was out running," She explained, purposely sounding as though it was no big deal just to bother him and by the sound of his voice, it was working. "We ran into each other."

"And then you just decided to go shopping with her?"

She huffed impatiently, rolling her eyes. "_I_ didn't. She offered and I accepted." She countered. "Why do you look like you're going to throw a fit? This'll help the mission."

"I'm not sure fawning over shoes together is going to help anything," He muttered.

"I'll be getting to know her better," She countered. "And who knows… she just might be stupid enough to let something slip."

"You don't really believe that, do you?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

She looked over at him and shrugged. "I believe you'd do it." She replied, standing up. "So maybe there are other people in the world just as stupid as you."

And there was the Sydney he knew. The one that threw insult after insult after him. Here he was hoping that perhaps she had lost that little quality of hers when she lost her mind agreeing to go shopping with Lauren Reed. Guess that was too much to hope for.

"Do you amuse yourself with all those little snide comments?" He asked.

She pretended to think about it, stopping in front of the bathroom door. "Yes," She answered giving him a sardonic smile. "I do." With that said, she shut the door behind her, promptly locking it.

"That makes one of us," He muttered grabbing the remote he'd dropped when she had announced that she was going shopping. But his solitude didn't last long.

Not even a minute later and she stormed out of the bathroom, in just her running shorts and sports bra. "Were you going through my things?" She demanded.

Trying to keep himself from retching right there, seeing her less then fully clothed, he closed his eyes. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Some of my stuff is missing," She explained, glaring at him. "What did you do with it?"

"I haven't touched any of your stuff," He countered. "Nor do I have any intention of doing so any time in the future."

She studied him for a moment. Either he was a very good liar (and he would be, since he made a living spying on people) or he really hadn't gone through her things. But that would mean someone else had been in their room and that wasn't a very comforting thought.

Then again… they were at a hotel. Perhaps maybe just the maid had started to clean up and that had moved some of her stuff. Yeah, that made perfect sense. It was just the maid. She should really look into that narcotic.

"Stay away from my things," She warned, giving him another glare before turning on her heel and storming back into the bathroom.

"Don't worry. I will." He muttered, finally opening his eyes after he heard the door slam behind her. Did she _have_ to stalk out barely dressed? She couldn't have had the common courtesy to throw on a shirt perhaps before she'd decided to come out and yell at him a little? Apparently not.

It didn't help that his traitorous body was oddly attracted to her with her shirt off. He caught just a glimpse but that glimpse was sticking in his mind. She definitely had some things going for her. Like she was well toned. She definitely wasn't the kind of girl to just sit around the house. Her arms were strong, sound. And her abdomen was one that most women would kill for. Flat, defined, leading the eye straight to her… no!

Oh holy fuck. He did _not_ just think about her… he couldn't even bring himself to even think the word. He'd throw up if he did that. There was no way he just thought about that part of her body. It didn't matter that she was… pretty nice in that area, she was an insufferable, wretched, evil woman. He'd rather shoot himself than ever have feelings for her.

How the rest of him could ever, even for a moment, think that dating her would be a good idea, he didn't know. And for that matter, he didn't want to know.

He was definitely going to need a pain killer, his headache was getting worse.

**-break-**

"Get up. We're going to dinner." Sydney announced, stalking into the hotel room, both hands holding shopping bags, only to find him in the place she'd left him that morning. On the bed, watching TV. "Did you move at all today?"

Vaughn opened one eye, looking at her with her shopping bags and annoyed expression before closing his eye again. "First of all… since when are we going to dinner? And second, no."

"Since this afternoon. Reed invited us," She explained, dropping the bags off by her dresser. She turned back to him with a frown and her hands on her hips, "Why the hell not?"

"And you accepted for the both of us?" He asked, both his eyes opening now. "I have a headache."

"Yes. I thought it'd be a good way to get to know them better," She replied. "Didn't you have a headache this morning?"

"Whatever gave you that ridiculous idea?" He questioned. "Yes. I did."

She sighed impatiently. "Stop questioning me. We're going to dinner and that's final." She commanded. "Besides, weren't you the one to propose the idea of getting close to them? I'm merely following it." She added. "Have you taken anything?"

Oh, so now she decides to go along with his ideas. She was evil. Pure evil. Ignoring her little order, he nodded slowly. "Of course I have."

"Then why do you still have a headache?"

"If I knew the answer to that," He replied slowly. "Then I wouldn't have a headache right now, would I?"

She rolled her eyes, heading for the bathroom. "Get up. We're meeting them in a half an hour."

"I never said that I was going to go," He countered, refusing to move from the spot.

After a couple minutes, she walked back out of the bathroom, a cup of water and a pill in her hands. "Here. Take this. Your headache will be gone before you know it."

He eyed the pill warily. "Who's to say that's not going to kill me?"

"Because it hasn't killed me yet," She countered, thrusting the glass of water into his hand. "And you're no good to me dead."

"You take this?" He asked, picking the pill out of her hand and studying it. It looked far too big to be an over the counter pain killer. "That's surprisingly kind of you."

"Not on a regular basis," She countered gesturing for him to swallow the pill. "No. I just would hate to have to play the widow."

He paused long enough to pop the pill into his mouth, take a drink of the water, and swallow before answering. "Then what do you take it for?" He asked. "Good to know where your priorities are."

"It's a migraine prescription," She explained taking the glass from him. Somehow, she was reminded of the conversation they'd had two days ago after he'd fallen off the horse. She'd given him a pain killer then. And they had been fighting about dinner.

"You get migraines?" He asked.

"Only when my supposed husband won't shut the hell up, get off his lazy ass, and go to dinner with me so I can spy on people," She replied.

"Ha. Ha." He muttered, rolling his eyes. "Alright fine. I'll go to dinner with you."

"Good boy," Sydney replied. "Hurry up, we've got twenty five minutes now."

This was going to be hell. He could feel it.

* * *

**SSB's note**: Don't you just love when I repeate scenes with Vaughn getting some form of a headache? Hehe, actually... that's leading up to something. Bet you can't figure out what. :P

Review responses are in my livejournal.

Next chapter: Of couples and fake laughs


	6. Of Couples and Fake Laughs

Sydney had beaten him to the bathroom for once. He couldn't fathom how she did it either. He knew she had gone for a run (she always did) and thinking that the he had a little extra time to sleep, he'd stayed in bed.

The next thing he knew, the shower was running. When he went to investigate, he found the door locked. When he tried to open the door, she started yelling at him for being a pervert. When he asked when she got back, she just said recently and then ignored him.

He must have been rather out of it to not hear her come back to the room. Not that he could really blame himself. After battling a headache and a pissy 'wife' and in front of two people he really didn't like no less, he wasn't all that surprised that he'd been deeply asleep.

No, he was more shocked that he was so asleep that his spy skills for lack of a better term were so out of whack now.

It he'd been up to his normal par, then her being in the room would have woken him instantly. He'd always been a light sleeper and had depended on that little skill when he was staying overnight after a mission. But now it wasn't working and he was sleeping properly.

He didn't like it. He didn't like it one bit.

Sydney shut off the shower just then, snapping him out of his thoughts. "How much longer are you going to be in there?"

To her credit, Sydney didn't answer with a snippy tone. "About another fifteen minutes." That would give her time to get dressed and do her make up. She wasn't one of those girls that took hours on their makeup. Just some cover up, blush, and a little mascara and she was good to go. She'd have to do her hair later.

True to her word, Sydney opened the bathroom door almost exactly fifteen minutes later. "All yours."

Vaughn just sat there and stared at her. He understood that she was subject to mood changes but just last night she acted as though his entire presence made her want to swallow a glass of poison and now… well, now she was being incredibly nice.

He didn't like that either.

"Hello? Vaughn? Michael? James?" Sydney waved her hand in front of his face. While she liked the silence, his staring was starting to unnerve her.

"Huh?"

Sydney rolled her eyes and huffed impatiently. "You were staring," She informed him. "Don't do it again. I don't like it."

"I wasn't staring at you," Vaughn countered.

"Uh, yes you were," Sydney said sarcasm lacing her voice.

"I wasn't staring at you," Vaughn repeated. "Well, I was but not like you're thinking."

Sydney raised an eyebrow at him. "You can read my mind now?"

"No," Vaughn sighed in frustration. "It's pretty obvious what you thought I was staring at."

"And that is…?"

"You. Because I was attracted to you."

"What?" Sydney squeaked, just barely resisting the urge to slap him. "No! No, no, _no_, you pervert." Alright, there was a small possibility that she had been thinking that he was staring because of that, but she wasn't going to tell him that.

"Sorry, I must've misinterpreted the look on your face," Vaughn murmured. His skills weren't all out of whack, he had the sinking feeling that she was lying to him. And if she was lying to him… oh Lord.

"You must've," Sydney agreed, avoiding his gaze by staring at her feet. She hesitated before adding, "Why were you staring to begin with?"

"Oh, um…" Vaughn shifted his weight. "It's nothing."

"It had to have been something," Sydney pointed out looking up at him. "Otherwise you wouldn't have stared."

God, this was awkward. "Well… you were being nice," He explained.

"And so you decided to stare at me?"

"After the way you were acting towards me last night, yes, I decided that staring was the best option," Vaughn snapped.

Sydney dropped her gaze again. "Uhh, yeah… sorry about that."

"I'd rather have an explanation instead."

Sydney looked up at him with defiant eyes. "I'm sure you'll get by on just an apology."

Vaughn opened his mouth to protest but changed his mind. "Right. I'm sure that I will."

"Good."

Vaughn paused again, glancing at her and looking away instantly when he noticed that she was looking at him. "I'm going to go take that shower now."

Sydney looked away when she saw him look at her. "Good." She repeated.

"See you in a bit," Vaughn looked at her again, before heading for the bathroom.

"Alright," Sydney answered, pointedly staring at the ground near her feet.

"Kay." He had no idea why he said it, but he knew that he was extremely thankful when the door closed behind him.

Sydney let out the breath she hadn't realized that she was holding when the door closed. That had been one of the most awkward conversations she had ever had. And life with her father was full of awkward conversations.

It didn't mean anything that it was awkward… right?

**-break-**

Sydney wasn't entirely sure what she had done while he was in the shower. She vaguely remembered the television on, and she might have gone over her notes for the past couple of days. She couldn't remember exactly though.

One minute he had just shut the door behind him and then the next he was back out in the room, fully dressed and ready to go out and do their job.

She was still trying to figure out why their conversation had been so awkward.

"Sydney?" Vaughn asked, approaching as though she were a deer he was scared would run off at the slightest movement. "Hello? Are you alright?"

"Huh?" Sydney blinked shaking her head a little. "Oh, I'm fine."

"You're sure?"

"Of course I'm sure." She snapped.

He almost smiled. If she was snapping at him, then she was definitely back to normal. "Good. We're having breakfast with the Sarks today."

"I know that," Sydney answered in an irritable tone. "I was there last night when they invited us."

"Okay, sorry," Vaughn said holding up his hands in mock defeat. "I didn't mean you make you mad."

"Funny how these things happen anyway, isn't it?"

"Do you think you could be a little less sarcastic and a little more loving?"

"I'll love the food," Sydney said stubbornly.

"That's not what I meant."

"I know what you meant," She responded.

"Then what was with the sarcasm?"

"It wasn't sarcasm."

"Then what the hell was it?"

"None of your business."

"Oh that was mature," Vaughn sneered.

"Glad you liked it."

"Why are you like this?"

"Like what?" She asked, her voice dangerously low.

Vaughn paused for a moment, considering what he wanted to say. "Like an immature brat who needs to be sent to her corner every five minutes because she can't play nicely with the other children."

"So you admit that you're a child," Sydney deduced, ignoring the barb.

"No!" He sighed in frustration. "You're the child."

"Doesn't sound like it right now."

Vaughn made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat. "Let's… just go to breakfast."

"I'm not going to breakfast with you," Sydney announced crossing her arms over her chest. She gave him a disgusted look. "I'd rather not sit through you insulting me every two seconds, kthnks."

Vaughn stared at her. "Oh you have got to be kidding me."

"I'm not."

"What about our job?" He hissed. "We're supposed to be following these people. Getting close to them. You know this."

"So?"

"So, do you want to lose that job of yours?" He snapped. "Would you like to be fired?"

Sydney stayed silent, for once.

Vaughn would've continued even if she had been talking. "Because I for one don't want to be fired and I will be damned if you are the reason that I lose my job. I like my job. Go screw up a different mission if you want to be fired so badly, but stay the hell away from me when you're trying to do it.

"Or better yet, just put in your resignation if you're so intent on being out of work."

Sydney still stayed speechless.

"What? Have you gone deaf now?" He quipped. He was so irritated with her immature antics that he didn't care what he had to say to make her stop it.

Unexpectedly, she uncrossed her arms and stood up. With one glance in his direction, she grabbed her purse and headed for the door.

"Where are you going?"

"To breakfast," Sydney answered calmly. "Coming?"

Vaughn was so surprised by this new change in her attitude that all he could do was stand there and stare at her.

She turned around when she felt the back of her neck burn from the effect of his staring. "I thought I told you to stop doing that." When he didn't answer, she added, "Stop staring. Please."

"Alright, you need to stop doing this." He told her.

Sydney shook her head in confusion. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Stop."

"Stop what?"

"Doing that."

"Doing what?"

"Stop repeating what I'm saying."

"Stop avoiding my questions." Sydney shot back. "What am I doing that's so annoying now?"

He couldn't very well blurt out that she was being nice and agreeable and that was what was annoying him. "Just stop changing your mood so often."

She rolled her eyes at him. "You really know nothing about women if you just told me to stop changing my mood," She commented, gripping the door handle. "Let's go to breakfast."

When he didn't move, she added in a commanding tone, "Now."

"Coming," Vaughn sighed in resignation.

**-break-**

Sydney groaned when Vaughn nudged her. "We've been at this table for two hours." He told her.

"I don't care," She answered, refusing to pick her head off of said table.

"The staff cares," He said. After being asked twice to leave the table so the hotel staff could clean it off and set up for lunch, he figured that it would be a good time to at least attempt to get her to move.

"Tell them to wait."

"I did." He answered patiently. "An hour and a half ago."

Sydney made another groaning noise, hitting her head against the table. "I have a headache," She complained.

"Hitting your head against that table isn't helping any," He pointed out sardonically.

Sydney shot out a blind hand, attempting to smack him. She missed by about six inches. "You're not helping either."

Vaughn smirked slightly. "As I've been told."

She tried again and this time her fist collided painfully with his shoulder.

"Shit woman," He hissed, massaging his injured shoulder. "You don't have to hit me."

"You deserved it," She remarked simply, finally picking her head up. "I can't believe it." She whispered, resting her chin in her hand.

Vaughn knew exactly what she was talking about because he couldn't believe it either. The Sarks had been one step ahead of them during the entire breakfast. Every single question had a plausible and grudgingly, a good reason to it. They had gotten no where. In fact, he was half convinced that they had somehow come out on the bottom under a big pile of crap.

So much for either one of them being super spies.

"We've still got a week and a half," He commented, trying to look on the bright side of things.

Sydney looked at him sharply.

"What?" Vaughn asked exasperated.

"That was incredibly…" She trailed off, trying to think of a word. "…_mature._"

Through no fault of his own, his eyebrow arched slightly at her. "I could make it less so, if you'd like."

Sydney smiled unexpectedly, shaking her head at him. "No, just leave it." She answered softly.

"Okay," Vaughn agreed finding himself smiling back at her.

"We've got a week and a half," She repeated a muscle in her jaw working as she thought. "That doesn't leave us a lot of time."

"I, for one, am going to need that time just to sort out what the hell just happened here today at breakfast," Vaughn said.

Instead of rebuking him for using humor at a time like this, she just smiled again and rolled her eyes. "Come on," She said, standing up and reaching for his hand. He took it and she helped him to his feet. "We have to at least do something today to make up for our inadequacy."

Vaughn laughed, his arm moving around her shoulder. "I concur." He murmured.

Sydney looked up at him and smiled softly. It wasn't fair that he was being so nice suddenly. She didn't feel like she was going to hit something every time she was around him. Not to mention it helped their image of a newly married couple. That was a good thing. She already heard one of the maids talking about her and Vaughn.

"Melissa! James!"

Both looked up instantly at the sound of their aliases. At least they had that down. There coming towards them were the Sarks dressed in swimsuits, complete with towels slung over their shoulders.

"You're still here?" Lauren asked sounding surprised.

"More like came back," Sydney answered just as Vaughn opened his mouth to say 'yes'. "We went for a walk, and then I realized that I'd left my purse at the table."

"You didn't have a purse this morning," Lauren said shrewdly.

Sydney didn't flinch. "I know, silly me. I thought I had, so I freaked when I realized I didn't have one with me." She smiled. "You know how distracting a husband can be."

The Sarks exchanged a look, obviously trying to decide if they believed the story or not. If they didn't, they didn't say anything. "Look, we decided to go take a dip, care to join us?"

Sydney glanced over at Vaughn, catching his small nod. "We'd love to."

"Great," Lauren smiled widely. "We'll see you there."

"No more than fifteen minutes," Sydney promised.

With another smile, the Sarks headed towards the doors.

"That was weird," Vaughn remarked.

Sydney nodded, her eyes on the Sarks. "They're definitely up to something," She observed.

Little did she know, Lauren was just saying the same thing to her own husband.

**-break-**

Sydney bit her lip, and stared at her own reflection. She'd 'called' the bathroom when they got back to the room, and teasingly, Vaughn had let her change into her suit in there.

She knew she was fit, and she knew that most everyone she met thought she looked amazing in a swim suit. And that was usually a good thing, especially in her line of work. Never before had she had a problem with putting on the less than decent suit and flaunting what she had.

But now she was staring at her reflection, and examining every bit about her.

Her hips for starters, were too big. They just did not match with the rest of her. It was hard to explain, just that they didn't _go_ with the rest of her frame.

And then there were the scars all over her body. Not all of them were from her work as a spy. Like the one on her right shoulder blade was from when she had fallen off the swings as a six year old and she had another on the sole of her foot from when she'd stepped on a rusty nail when she was fifteen.

But all of the other scars… one from when she got in a knife fight in a German bar two years ago. Another from when a bullet grazed her arm in Bangladesh. Then there was a burn scar on her upper thigh. Not to mention the mark on the side of her neck from when she had been involuntarily drugged with a very large needle.

To be honest, her job came with scars, and lots of them and she bore the mark of every single one.

And hated it.

What she couldn't understand was why she hated it. Just last week, she had been out on the beach in Los Angeles, taking the afternoon off from work and Francie and the wedding and her then boyfriend, just lounging out on the beach, in her bikini. She hadn't felt self conscious about her scars then. Not one bit. In fact, she had shown them off proudly. When one surfer asked about the burn on her leg, she made up an elaborate story about a pot of boiling water, all the while leading him on. It had been fun that afternoon, not that she had told anyone about it least of all Danny.

Like that did her any good now.

She was better than this. She was better than secluding herself in a bathroom, fretting about scars when she had a mission and an alias waiting for her outside of that bathroom. But she couldn't bring herself to move.

"Sydney?" Vaughn knocked on the door, startling her. "You've been in there for about thirteen minutes."

"So?"

"Are you stuck or something?"

She gave a humorless laugh, rolling her eyes. "No. I'm not stuck."

"Then what's taking you so damn long?"

"I'm a girl."

"That's not an excuse."

"Then you've never lived with women."

"I have two sisters and my dad died when I was eight," Vaughn answered.

"Oh," Sydney said. "Then you should know that women take longer in the bathroom."

"You're just putting on a bloody suit, woman!"

"Bloody?" She repeated, avoiding the issue.

"I spent part of my childhood in England." He explained. "Now what's taking you so long?"

"I didn't know that," Sydney commented, ignoring his question.

"You never asked."

"It's not in your file either."

"Because I only spent the summers there."

"Oh."

"Care to explain what's taking you so long now?"

"No, not really."

"Care to come out of there then?"

Sydney glanced at herself in the mirror again, biting her lip. There wasn't a solid reason for her to continue hiding away in the bathroom. "Oh alright fine," She said, opening the door. "Happy now?"

Vaughn nodded, his eyes involuntarily wandering over the rest of her. If she had been in there worrying about she looked, then he'd have to smack her because, grudgingly, she looked amazing. "Mildly."

"I'm so glad then," Sydney answered scathingly.

"Where are the towels?"

Sydney made an exasperated noise. She turned, muttering something like "nutcase" under her breath as she went for the towels. "Here," She threw a towel at him, slinging one over her own shoulder. "Anything else master needs?"

Vaughn rolled his eyes at her sarcasm. "Master is fine for now, thanks for asking."

"It is what Sydney does."

Vaughn paused before laughing. "Don't ever say that again."

Sydney laughed also. "Gladly." She said. "Shall we go?"

Vaughn nodded, and without waiting for her, he started towards the door, giving her a plain view of his back. His very muscley back.

"Oh boy…" She said to herself. She could not be thinking anything along those lines about him, or his back. "Snap out of it."

"Are you going to stand there and talk to yourself or what?" Vaughn asked from the door.

"Coming," Sydney answered, shaking her head. She just had to keep her eyes away from him, and then no traitorous thoughts would occur in her mind. That was simple enough.

The walk down to the pool was virtually silent except for a couple 'excuse me's and a 'thank you'.

When they got outside, Sydney cast one look around, and frowned, "Where are they?"

Vaughn looked around before answering. "I think we've been duped again."

* * *

**SBB's note:** On the subject of Sydney's out of character behavior in the last chapter, she hada good reason for being a mood, not to mention the fact that she really does not like Vaughn, and she's at least seven years younger in this storythan she is when the show starts so she's bound to be a little less mature than she is in the show. And I never said this was a canon story anyway, obviously. -is fuming-

I shall do review responses next time. I'm sick as a dog right now, and cranky, so yeah. Next time. Promise.

**Next Chapter:** Of Fathers and Ski Lifts


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